


Cold Nights

by Mandancie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-04-22 16:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22188922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandancie/pseuds/Mandancie
Summary: Dean hasn’t heard from Sam in over a month. Now he needs to find out what’s going on.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

div class='storytext xcontrast_txt nocopy' id='storytext'>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**This story is unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are my own.**

**Timeline: Pre-series. Sam is in Palo Alto. Dean is hunting.**

**Summary: Dean hasn't heard from Sam in over a month. Now he needs to find out what's going on.**

**Chapter 1 **

Dean was bone tired. He was bloodied all over; the good thing was that it wasn't his blood. All he wanted to do was get back to the hotel, take a hot shower, and sleep for the next three weeks.

Dean pulled into the hotel that he was staying in. Putting the Impala in park, Dean leaned back against the seat and let his head loll back. A huge sigh passed through Dean's lips. Slowly he opened the door and all but fell out of the car. Going to the back seat, he pulled out his duffel and headed for the room.

Fishing the key out of his pocket, Dean let himself into the room, dropping his bag on the floor. Stretching his arms over his head, he smirked at himself as to the fact that he felt older than he was. Looking over at the other bed in the room the smirk left his face. He missed his brother. Knowing his geeky brother, Sam would probably have his nose stuck in a book.

Pealing out of his bloodied clothes and dropping them on the floor, Dean made a straight line to the bathroom. Standing under the hot water, he relaxed his shoulders and let the stream wash over him while a bloody trail of his past hunt went down the drain.

After a while, Dean emerged from a steamy bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. All he wanted to do was go to sleep. But there was one thing he had to do before he closed his eyes.

Every week since Sam left for school, Dean would try and call to see how he was doing. He wanted to see if Sam needed anything. Every time he called, the answer would be the same. "I'm fine, Dean." "You don't have to worry so much." "I'm not a baby anymore. I can take care of myself." It was the end of another week, and usually, he would be so hard-pressed to call Sam, but this time he was adamant about it. For the last three weeks, Sam hasn't been answering his phone.

Dean dialed the number and put the phone to his ear. Ring after ring, there was no answer. Dean sighed as he dropped the phone beside him. Rationally, Dean knew that it was too late to do anything about it now. Besides the fact that he was tired, and it wouldn't do Sam any good if Dean crashed the car on the side of the road because he fell asleep behind the wheel.

Getting up and putting on his boxers and sweat pants, Dean got back into bed and vowed to himself that he would go and find Sam at first light.

_000_000_000_000

Sam was tired. He walked down the street. His duffel hanging off his shoulder felt like there were a ton of bricks, sagging off his shoulder. His pain was more than just his bag. He hadn't eaten in two days. Even though he was hungry, he was at least glad that he had a bottle that he could fill up with water.

He needed to find a place where he could sleep. Sleeping in the park was not something he wanted to try again. He didn't like what happened, and he barely got away with his sanity, let alone his things.

As tired as he was, a place in the gutter where he knew he would be alone would be preferable than just walking around.

A glimmer of light a little down the way made him smile. It was a 24-hour laundry mat. Even though he didn't have much money, he could at least he could be warm. The seats weren't that comfortable, but right now, he didn't care. Just the thought of getting off his feet was enough.

The heat bathed Sam's face when he opened the door. A small smile graced Sam's lips as he stepped in the laundry mat. It was chilly outside. It wasn't cold, but the way Sam felt the chill went down to his bones.

Sam was glad that the place wasn't that busy. Two women were separating their clothes on the large tables. Not wanting to bring too much attention to himself, he walked to the back of the mat and sat down. Sam was happy that the dryers were in the back of the place. He could lean against something warm. It wouldn't be comfortable, but he would be warm.

Sam put the duffel between the dryer and his head and leaned against it. Sleep claimed him fast. His tired bones, the lack of food, and the warmth of his surroundings, Sam was able to get a night's sleep.

_000_000_000_000

Dean woke up. The first thing he did was get dressed. He packed up the dirty, bloody clothes into a separate sack and put it in the trunk of the car. Coming back into the room, Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed his brother again. Again, there was no answer; he would get the same message each time: 'This is Sam, leave a message.' Then 'The inbox is full, goodbye' and the line would go dead.

Checking that he grabbed everything out of the room, Dean walked out and headed towards the front office to turn in the key.

Dean got in the car and turned the engine. "Dammit, Sam, where are you?"

Dean drove out of the parking lot and headed for the two-day drive to Palo Alto.

_000_000_000_000

"_Where the hell are you!"_

Dean was standing at a gas pump leaning against the car.

"You don't have to yell, dad," Dean said, moving the phone away from his ear.

"_Where are you?"_ John's voice could be heard from the phone.

"I'm just out of Stillwater, Oklahoma," Dean said, putting the phone back to his ear.

"_Oklahoma? Why are you there? What's out there?"_

"Nothing," Dean said, pulling the hose out of the tank and putting it back on the pump. "I'm heading towards California."

It didn't make sense to lie to his dad about where he was going. He had already told his dad when Sam left that he would keep in touch with his brother. Their dad forbade it, but Dean would not listen. It had been ingrained in Dean to look out for his brother, and just because he was in school on the other side of the continent didn't mean that it would stop.

"_Why are you going there? Sam left us. You need to leave him alone."_

"Yeah," Dean said, getting into the car. "That's not going to happen. I'll be gone for a few weeks. I'll talk to you after I get with Sam."

"_Dean—"_

"Bye Dad," Dean said, tossing the phone on the seat beside him and driving out of the gas station.

It was getting late. Dean knew he would have to stop for the night before he heads out again. He figured he would drive until he finished this tank of gas. It would get him closer to Texas before he had to stop. He pulled into a fast food place and got a small meal and coffee. Back on the highway.

_0000_0000_0000_000

Sam woke up to someone shaking his shoulder. He didn't mean to stay someplace where he would be noticed, but the warmth kept him asleep. When he opened his eyes, he sees a woman standing next to him.

She had a kind face. She was wearing sweats, and there was a bonnet covering her hair. She looked like she just got out of bed.

"Sweetie," the lady said. "Are you okay?"

Sam tried to get the sleep out of his eyes. It had been a long time since he slept so deeply. He didn't even have any dreams. Sitting up, letting the duffel fall on his leg, Sam rubbed his hands on his face.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, his voice was hoarse from his sleep.

"You've been here for a while," the lady said, sitting across from him. "I just wanted to know if you were okay."

"Yes ma'am," Sam said, sitting up straighter in the chair.

He was about to stand up when the lady put her hand out and touched his leg.

"I wasn't saying that, so you would leave."

Sam looked at her and sat back down.

"My name is Rebecka."

"Sam." Sam lowered his head and had the duffel on his lap with his arms wrapped around the bag.

"Please look at me, Sam," Rebecka pleaded.

Sam looked at her. She smiled at him.

"When was the last time you ate?" Rebecka asked.

Sam shrugged his shoulder but didn't answer.

"Okay," Rebecka said. "Don't move."

Rebecka stood up and walked to the out of the laundry mat. Sam watched her walk away. He knew he shouldn't stay, he should leave so that he wouldn't put a lot of attention on him, but it was the way she said 'don't move' that got him stuck in the chair.

Ten minutes later, Rebecka walked into the laundry mat, carrying a grocery bag on her arm. Sam couldn't help the smile on his face when he saw Rebecka walk over to him. She sat across from him again and held out the bag.

"I…I can't," Sam said, shaking his head. "I can't repay you. I don't have money."

"I don't remember saying anything about repaying," Rebecka softly chided. "You look like you've missed a few meals. It's not much, but it should at least help you out."

Sam looked in the bags, and tears burn his throat. It had been a long time since he had any food: junk or healthy. In the bag, there were carrot sticks, cookies, sports drinks, bottled water, chips, and some chocolates. It wasn't much, but it was something that would keep him eating for a few weeks. After growing up with Dean, his big brother taught him how to eat light to make the food last.

Sam opened his duffel and started packing the food in it being careful of the chips and cookies. He put the carrot sticks in the side of the side pocket for easy reach. He figured he'd eat that one first.

"Thank you so much," Sam said, smiling.

"You're very welcome," Rebecka said. "Now, listen to me, I know you're probably going through a hard time, and I understand. There is a shelter. It's west of here on the corner of Sumeet and Vine. It's about a few miles away. I know it probably seems like a long way but try to get there. Staying here is fine for a day, but you can't keep it up. The owner will call the police."

"I understand," Sam said. "Thank you again."

"Take care of yourself, Sam."

Rebecka got up, walked over to her bundle of clothes, and walked out of the laundry mat without looking back at Sam. Sam looked down at the now empty bag and smiled. He slid up his sleeve to look at the time — a quarter past seven. Sam got himself together and decided to start on his day.

It was a fair day. The sun was just rising. From the angel that Sam had his duffel, he was able to reach the pocket easily so that he could eat his carrots. There was a little spring in his step now that he was able to have something more than just water in his stomach.

Maybe today would be an okay day, Sam thought.

_000_000_000_000

Dean woke up and swung his legs out of bed. Rubbing his face, trying to get rid of the sleepiness he was feeling. Reaching for his phone that was sitting on the side table, Dean called Sam's number again. By this time, he figured Sam wouldn't answer. Now he just wanted to hear Sam's voice on the phone.

He was now in New Mexico. Dean pushed himself last night. He couldn't get his usual early start because he had to let the Impala cool down. He was tired, but he couldn't truly rest until he knew what the deal with Sam.

His imagination was running ramped. Different scenarios plagued his mind. Dean saw Sam hanging from a beam beaten by werewolves or laying in the gutter with blood draining from him from a vampire bite. A wendigo. A shapeshifter. A demon. Every horrible thing Dean could think of gave him a different horrific scenario. And after each one, he berated himself because he knew that Sam was smart. He would know how to handle himself in any confrontation. Dean taught him that much.

Laying back down on the bed, he decided he would give himself four more hours to rest, and then he would get back on the road. It wasn't far now.

**TBC **

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story. Please take time to leave a review letting me know what you think of it. **

**Many hugs and kisses to you all!**

**Mandancie**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**The chapter is unbeta'ed. All mistakes are my own.**

**A/N: When I started this, I thought it would only be two chapters. Well, my muse decided to make a liar out of me. I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**Chapter 2**

Dean crossed the state line. He was never so happy to see California. Now that he was in the state, he knew that he was just a few hours from Palo Alto. Now that he was in the state, he was more anxious about finding Sam. It has been too long since he last heard from him.

After driving another hour, Dean stopped at a gas station so that he could fill up the Impala. Leaning against the car, Dean's hip started vibrating. With a deep sigh, he didn't want to talk to his dad anymore. Not until he had Sam in the car.

When he looked at the screen, he almost dropped the phone. "SAM" Dean almost dropped the phone, trying to get it to his ear.

"Sammy," Dean said as soon as the phone touched his ear.

"Who is this?"

Dean's heart dropped in his chest. It wasn't his brother on the other side of that phone. And unless his balls didn't drop, there was no way that was Sam. It was a woman's voice.

"This is Dean," Dean said. "Who is this?"

"Jessica, I found this phone in my bag."

"Do you know Sam?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Jessica said. "I know him. We had a few classes together. Wait a minute; you said your name is Dean. As in big brother Dean."

"Yeah," Dean said. "That's me."

"Wow," Jessica said. "I've heard Sam talk about you a lot."

"Where is Sam?" Dean asked. "Why isn't he with his phone?"

"I guess you didn't hear," Jessica said.

"Hear what?"

"Sam was kicked out about two weeks ago."

The world stopped around Dean. It was like he couldn't hear anything; he couldn't see anything. If Sam wasn't in school, where was he? The need to find Sam amplified immensely.

"What was he kicked out for?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Jessica answered. "I just know something happened. Sam got accused of it. And he had to leave. I didn't see him when he left, that's why I have his phone."

"Thanks," Dean said, hanging up the phone.

Now Dean was scared. He needed to find his brother. A small part of him was hurt that Sam didn't call him to let him know that he didn't have a place to stay. But Dean knew he had to worry about that later. Finding Sam was the priority.

_000_000_000

Sam walked down the street. He wanted to maintain a low profile. He was getting tired, so he sat at a bus stop. It was shaded, and he could rest his legs. Putting his duffel on his lap, he reached in a pulled out one of the bags of chips. He finished the carrots earlier that day. He also pulled out one of the energy bars. He wanted to keep up his stamina.

The sun was starting to go down. Sam hoped that he was closer to the shelter Rebecka told him about. Sleeping on a bed, even if it was a small cot, sounded wonderful. Sam never thought about the idea of sleeping flat would be something to yearn for.

A man walked over and sat by Sam at the stop.

"Hello," the man said.

"Hi," Sam replied.

"You heading somewhere?" the man asked.

"Not really," Sam said. "Just resting for a bit."

"My name is James," the man said, holding out his hand.

Sam looked at the hand but didn't respond. There was something about this person that didn't sit well with Sam.

"It's nice to meet you, James," Sam said, standing up. "I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day."

Sam walked away. He didn't even look back to see if the man was still watching. Now that he wasn't at school and he didn't have Dean to watch his back, Sam had to follow his gut. And his gut was telling him that this James wasn't someone that he needed to be around. He didn't get the same feeling he had when he was talking to Rebecka. Rebecka had a calmness about her. She had a protectiveness that reminded Sam of Dean. But this James was different. Just sitting next to James made Sam uncomfortable.

Sam didn't slow down until he got to the next block over. When he felt he had put enough distance between him and James, Sam slowed down. He looked down and realized that he rushed off the bench so fast that he didn't even close his bag. He knelt on the ground and checked his bag. He wanted to make sure he had everything and hope he didn't drop any of his food. Sam smiled, seeing that everything seemed to stay in his bag even though it was opened. Fixing his duffel up again, he pulled out the energy bar he was about to eat, closed everything up again, and set off towards the shelter.

_000_000_000

Even though Jessica told Dean that Sam was kicked out, he still wanted to be sure. The Impala drove around the campus of Stanford. He looked around, seeing the layout of the school. Once he got a feel of the school, he left the campus and searched for a place to stay.

Walking into a motel room, Dean unpacked his things looking for the proper items he would need when he went to the Administration building to get the information about his brother. Twenty minutes later, Dean walked out of his assigned room wearing a suit with a badge clipped to his belt. Getting into the Impala, Dean searched thought his cigar box of fake IDs finding the right one.

Dean pulled into the parking lot, finding a space that wouldn't be noticed. He walked towards the building and headed towards the main office.

Dean walked into the office, where he saw several people standing behind a large desk.

"How may I help you?" a woman asked when Dean stepped closer towards the desk.

"How are you doing today?" Dean asked, putting on his charm.

"I'm well, and you?" the woman asked.

"Good," Dean pulled out his badge. "My name is Agent Barnes. I've come to check on some information about a student that was here."

"Okay," the woman said. "Which student are you checking on? Maybe I can help."

"Well, I've learned that he isn't here anymore, but I was sent to find out what happened," Dean said.

"Okay," the woman said. "What is his name?"

"Samuel Winchester," Dean said.

The woman's fingers danced across the keyboard of her computer. She then looked intently at the screen.

"Okay, Samuel Winchester," she said, "Here it is. It says that Mr. Winchester was under suspicion of attacking a woman and putting three men in the hospital."

"He was accused, or he was just a suspect?"

"He was a suspect," the woman answered.

"And he was kicked out for just being a suspect?" Dean asked.

"No," the woman said. "He wasn't kicked out. It says here that he was put on administrative suspension pending the outcome."

Dean was at a loss at what he was hearing. From what Jessica said on the phone, he was kicked out. But now he's learning that Sam was only suspended.

"Just a few more questions," Dean said.

"Of course," the woman said.

"He lived here on campus. Was he kicked out of his dorm?"

The woman typed on her keyboard again.

"Uh, no," the woman said. "He wasn't kicked out. But it seems that after this whole mess started and he was accused, he ran."

"Thank you for your time," Dean said. "I really appreciate your candor."

"Anytime," the woman said. "How can I help you?" speaking to the next person in line.

Dean walked out of the office. His head was spinning. What was going on? Dean turned around and went back to the woman that helped him.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, sliding next to the person that took his spot after he left.

"Yes, Agent Barnes," the woman said.

"One final question," Dean said. "Can you tell me where the dormitory is, and which one was Samuel's?"

"Give me a second," the woman said.

Dean looked at the person he butted into. "Forgive me; I'll just be a second."

"No problem, friend." The boy said.

"Here it is?" the woman said. "He's in Jasper Hall. It's on the other side of the campus. And his room number is 364."

"Thank you so much," Dean said. "Again, I'm sorry for butting in."

Dean walked out of the office and saw there was a layout of all the buildings. He saw where Jasper Hall was and made a mental note of what was around it. He left the building heading towards Baby. He needed to get more answers.

On his trek to his car, a guy ran up to catch Dean.

"Hey. Hey," a guy called out. "Agent."

Dean stopped and turned, seeing a guy running towards him.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"I heard you were looking for Sam. I'm Brady. Sam was my roommate."

Brady held out his hand. Dean held out his and shook the guy's hand.

"How can I help you, Brady?" Dean asked.

"I think the true question is, how can I help you," Brady countered.

"Okay," Dean said. "What do you have?"

"Not here," Brady said. "Let's go someplace more private."

"Well," Dean said. "Come on. We'll go to your dorm."

"No," Brady said. "Off-campus. There's a diner down the street a ways. It's further than most people will walk to, so we won't have the chance of being overheard."

Dean nodded at the two of them walked to the car.

"Get in," Dean said.

"Wow! This is your car?" Brady asked. "I like it."

Dean smirked as he got into the car. Brady got into the passenger's side, and they left the lot.

_000_000_000

Sam saw a sign on the corner of the next block, showing the entrance to a shelter. A smile graced the young Winchester's lips as he finally made it to the shelter. He just hopes it was a nice place where he could sleep.

The place was the size of a huge church. There was a sign on the side of the building showing the entrance to the place. Sam walked in, and the first thing he noticed was the smell of food.

Sam walked in slowly, hoping to see someone that worked here that could help him. A woman was standing on the other side of the door with a clipboard in her hand.

"Excuse me," Sam said.

The woman turned around, and Sam got a pleasant surprise.

"Rebecka," Sam said.

"Well, hello," Rebecka said. "I'm glad that you found the place. Come on in."

Rebecka held out her arm, inviting Sam to enter the room.

"I thought you didn't come here," Sam said, following Rebecka.

"How do you think I knew about it," Rebecka said, smiling. "Listen, you got here at a good time. They will be serving dinner in a bit. I'll search for a bed for you."

"Thank you so much," Sam said. "I wish I could repay you for everything you've done for me."

"Like I said," Rebecka said. "Don't worry about it. It's fine. I'm just glad that you made it."

Sam and Rebecka walked through several rooms till they got to what Rebecka called the cafeteria. The room was huge. There was a food line where there were different foods to choose from.

"I know you're hungry," Rebecka said. "I know what I got you earlier is long gone. Go eat. I'll get you when I find you a bed."

Sam watched Rebecka walk out of the room. It felt nice in here. It wasn't too warm; it was comfortable. Sam pulled the hood off his head and made his way to the beginning of the food line.

Looking at all the food, made Sam's stomach growl. He grabbed a plate and walked down the line getting a little bit of everything. Once his plate was full, and he got something to drink, Sam walked over to a deserted table and sat down. Training set in his blood. Sam knew never to sit somewhere where his back was exposed. Where Sam was sitting, he could see where someone could enter or leave.

Sam put his duffel between his knees and dug into his dinner. It felt nice to have a warm meal. He was so hungry that it didn't care if it was good or not. It was food, and it would fill him up, so he didn't go to sleep with hunger pains. For the first time in a long time, Sam felt that maybe this was exactly what he needed to recharge.

Rebecka finished finding a place for Sam. She was headed back to the cafeteria when she was stopped by someone entering the building.

"Hello," Rebecka said. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," the man said. "I haven't eaten all day, and I saw the sign."

"Of course. Of course," Rebecka held out her hand to escort the man further into the building. "What is your name?"

"My name is James," the man said.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, James," Rebecka said. "Let's go to the cafeteria and get you something warm to eat."

"That sounds great," James said, smiling.

James followed Rebecka into the cafeteria.

_000_000_000

Dean parked by an all-night café. Dean and Brady were sitting by the window. They've already placed their orders. The waitress came by with their drinks; now, they were waiting for their food.

"Okay," Dean said. "What was it you didn't want to say on campus?"

"Sam was set up," Brady said.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"Look," Brady said, leaning closer towards Dean. "While you're at the school, you're going to hear all kinds of things about Sam that aren't true."

"Well, let's start with what he was accused of," Dean said.

"He was accused of rape and kidnapping."

**TBC**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who favored, followed, and reviewed my story.**

**Please leave a review letting me know what you think of this chapter. **

**Many hugs and kisses to you all!**

**Mandancie**


	3. Chapter 3

'storytext'>

**Disclaimer: I do now own Supernatural.**

**This story is unbeta'ed. All mistakes are my own.**

**A/N: Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. **

_ **Warning:** _ ** There is a small part of sexual molestation. Nothing graphic. There is ** **NO** ** rape in this story. **

**Chapter 3**

James walked to the area where the food was placed, filling up his plate. Rebecka walked over to Sam. She saw that he was almost finished eating.

"Did you enjoy it?" Rebecka asked.

"I did," Sam said. "Thank you."

"No thanks required," Rebecka said, smiling. "I found a bed for you. Let's get you settled."

Rebecka held out her hand for Sam to follow. The two of them walked down a corridor on the opposite side from the entrance door.

James sat down with his food. He looked up and saw his target walking down the hall.

Rebecka entered a room that housed ten cots in it.

"I know it isn't much," Rebecka said.

"It's fine," Sam said quickly. "It would be nice to stretch out."

"I'm sure," Rebecka said. "The cot at the end is empty."

Sam and Rebecka walked towards the cot. Sam put his duffel bag at the head of the bed and sat down. The bed was amazingly comfortable. Or maybe it was because he had been sleeping in chairs or benches for the past three weeks. Either way, he didn't lie; it would be nice to stretch out.

"Now, I'll tell you," Rebecka said, a tone of warning in her voice. "Even though this gives you a place to sleep. Don't trust who is in this room. Keep your things close. I've known people who lost their only items by not sleeping with them."

Sam nodded. He wasn't a stranger to sleeping lightly. Though the last time he had to, it was with Dean, and he kept watch over him the night. If not, they slept in the same cot. It was moments and memories like that that made Sam wish his brother was here. But that would be impossible.

Dean was doing what he loved: hunting. He didn't have his younger brother standing in his way; he didn't have to watch over his "baby" brother all the time. Dean could be his own person.

"I'm putting you at the end of the room so that you can have the wall to put your duffel between you and it," Rebecka said. "I'm sure you won't be able to stretch out if you're guarding your things."

Sam smiled at the thoughtfulness of this woman that he just met.

"Thank you," Sam said. "You've done so much for me. You remind me of my brother."

"Well, thank you," Rebecka said. "Well, I have to go back. Try and get some sleep."

"I will."

Rebecka started to walk away but stopped.

"Listen," Rebecka said. "I know you'll probably leave in the morning. I won't be here, but before you go, get some breakfast. They usually have things that you can take with you. I know you probably don't have what I bought you, so take as much as you need."

"Thanks."

"Good night, Sam."

"Good night."

Sam watched Rebecka leave. He looked at the cot and saw that it was bigger than he expected. Laying his duffel by the wall, Sam laid down. He didn't know if it was because he hadn't laid flat on a surface, or if he was exhausted, but this was the best he felt in a very long time. Just in case he fell into a deep sleep, Sam wrapped the strap of his duffel around him as if he was standing up, walking with it. So, if someone tried to take it or get in it, he would know. Feeling himself laying flat, sleep came quickly. Sam smirk a little before succumbing to the blissfulness of sleep.

_000_000_000

Dean sat in the booth, staring at the boy sitting across from him. He couldn't believe what he just heard. Rape and kidnapping. Sam couldn't do something like that. He has a deep respect for women.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked. The anger was intense in his voice. "Sam would never do that."

"Hey," Brady said, holding up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "I don't believe it either. But that's what he's being accused of."

Dean shook his head, running his fingers through his cropped hair. He just couldn't wrap his head around it. There must be something that isn't being said.

"Look," Brady said, "I know Sam didn't do it."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"The day that he was accused, he was with me," Brady said. "That's why he wasn't just kicked out of school. They're investigating the situation."

"If they're investigating, why did Sam leave?"

"The girl that accused him threatened to call the cops. The investigation was kept within the school. Stanford didn't want the stigma or the press that would come with this sort of thing happening." Brady said, leaning back in the booth. "Something scared Sam, and he left during the night. He was staying with me, but he bailed."

"How did he lose his phone?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Brady said. "I suspect that his phone was the damning evidence that convicted him."

"All right," Dean said. "Tell me everything."

Dean and Brady sat in the diner and talked for another hour. Anyone looking at the pair could see that walking by the table would be a death sentence. Some other patrons felt the waitress was impenetrable, not being scared walking by the table.

_000_000_000

James finished eating. Now he was on a mission. He saw his target walking through another door. James saw Rebecka dealing with another person. He walked over to her.

"Did you get enough to eat?" Rebecka asked James when the other man left her.

"I did," James said. "Thank you so much. It had been a long time since I've had a warm meal."

"Well, I'm glad that we were able to give you at least something filling now," Rebecka said, smiling. "Do you have someplace to sleep?"

"I usually sleep around the park," James said. "A couple of hours at a time. Don't want to give the police a reason to bother me."

"Well, that can't do," Rebecka said. "I have a few cots in the back. It isn't much, but at least you'll be warm. And you can have breakfast in the morning."

"That's very sweet of you," James said, smiling. "It would be nice to lay down."

"Follow me," Rebecka said.

She turned and walked through the same doors that she walked James' target through. James smirked as he followed the woman.

This was just too easy, James thought.

When they got to the room, it was almost full. There were only three free cots.

"Take a cot that you want," Rebecka said. "Have a good night."

Rebecka left before James could respond. James looked up and down the rows of cots. He saw Sam lying against the wall fast asleep. James was upset that someone else was in bed next to him. But a few cots down was a free one. James walked over there and sat on the bed.

Around the room, everyone was getting ready to go to sleep. James figured if he were quiet enough, he wouldn't disturb anyone else in the room. He didn't want to raise suspicion on himself, so he laid down.

It didn't take a whole hour for everyone in the room to fall asleep. James looked around in the dimmed lighted room and saw that everyone was sleeping peacefully. Since it was fast for everyone to go asleep, he decided to wait another hour to make his move.

Because James was excited about what he was going to do, he couldn't lay still. He didn't want to move too much as the cots were a little squeaky when you moved. Most people that were here were genuine homeless people, so they rarely moved while they were asleep.

When James felt that it was enough time, he got up as quietly as he could. There was minimal squeaking when he stood. It was nothing that would wake the others up—James tipped-toed towards Sam's cot. James pulled something out of the small of his back: a seven-inched hunting knife. It was smooth on one side and jagged on the other. James always kept his knives razor thin. The slightest touch would cut the intended target.

Wrapping his hand around his knife so that it was leaning against his arm, James lowered himself over Sam, and in one swift movement, James clasped his hand over Sam's mouth and put his knife against his chest.

Sam cursed himself for not staying alert. He let his comfort dull his instincts. It was this moment now that he wished his big brother was here having his back. Sam felt the hand over his mouth before he felt the sharp blade on his neck. When he opened his eyes, it took a moment for him to recognize who was over him. Because his duffel was behind him, James had Sam's head at an awkward angle.

James leaned lower so that he was inches from Sam's face.

"Well, well, well," James whispered. "Better keep the noise down. Don't want to wake up everyone else."

Sam continued trying to struggle from the grasp as best he could with a knife at his neck. He could feel a small trickle of blood sliding down his throat into his shirt.

"Shh," James said soothingly. "Quiet now. It will be all right."

Sam looked around the limited sight that he had and saw that it was dimly lit. His arms were stuck. One under his body, the other one was pinned between his back and the duffel.

James moved the knife down to the crotch of Sam's pants.

"I knew I wanted you the minute I saw you at the bus stop," James cooed.

James ogled Sam up and down his body. It made Sam feel dirty at how James was looking at him. Sam tried to suppress a shiver of disgust. As slow as Sam could so not to give himself away, he reached in his back pocket.

Dean always told Sam to keep a five-inch pocketknife on him at all times. Sam kept it in his back pocket so long that if he didn't have it there, Sam would feel like he was naked.

Sam was glad that James moved the knife away from his neck, but he didn't want to get cut on his leg or worse his sensitive area. Using the dimmed lighting to his advantage, Sam carefully pulled out his knife as silently as he could. Using James' talking as a cover to camouflage the sound of the clicking, Sam was able to open it.

"Sweet eye candy," James murmured.

James let go of the knife so that he could feel his prize, giving it a mild squeeze.

Sam couldn't help the groan feeling this man's hand on him. Out of instinct, Sam swung his arm around slicing James' arm. The ferocity of the swing made a deep cut on James' arm. James fell away, falling on the floor, screaming. That woke everyone up in the room.

Sam stood up, saw James gripping his now bleeding arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Looking down at his molester, Sam swung back his leg as far back as he could. The youngest Winchester kicked James in between his legs, causing James to grunt and involuntarily vomit on the floor. Sam was about to kick him again when he felt more hands on him. Sam turned around on the person on him, ready to defend himself. He was holding the knife out in front of him.

"Hey," a man said. "Calm down. It's cool."

"Are you all right?" another person asked.

"What's going on?" Someone else asked that was on the other side of the room.

Sam didn't like the attention, so he rushed out, squeezing through the crowd, leaving the shelter.

Well, the idea of sleeping comfortably just wasn't in Sam's future. Sam was on full adrenaline. He just wanted to get as far away from the shelter as he could. Sam didn't notice that he was heading back to the school. And right now, he didn't care. The only thing on Sam's mind was run.

At this moment right now, all Sam wanted was his big brother. He wanted Dean badly. The more he thought about it; he could still feel that man's hands on him. He wanted to cry after what happened. But he would hold his own.

Sam looked down at his hands. The knife was still open, and his hand was bloody. Probably from James when he cut him. He needed to clean his hands before someone got the wrong idea. Sam knew that in the park, there were small restrooms. It took a few minutes to get to the park. Sam tried to stay in the shadows.

Around a group of trees was a small building. Sam headed there and went inside, rushing to the sink and scrubbed his hands over and over. Red liquid swirled down the drain. Sam continued washing until the water was clear. His knife included.

Once he finished, Sam put the knife back in his pocket. He peaked out of the building. Since his attack, Sam was wary if someone was following him. When he didn't see anyone, Sam left, heading back towards the school.

_000_000_000

Dean was enraged. Hearing the specifics of the so-called case against his baby brother was lacking in crucial evidence. Keeping certain people quiet or not speaking to them was just too shady. There was a reason why Sam ran. The school was out to get him. The question was why.

"We need to go back to the school," Dean said. "I need to find out what the real reason for blaming my brother."

"Where do you want to start first?" Brady asked, gathering his things so they can leave.

Dean pulled some money out of his wallet and stood up.

"Let's start with your dorm," Dean said. "There has to be a reason they are targeting Sam."

Dean and Brady headed to the Impala.

_000_000_000

The adrenaline that was coursing through Sam's blood was draining. The sleepiness was creeping into Sam's mind. He went down the street and saw a diner. Sam smirked as he recognized the diner. It would be the same place he and Brady would go for lunch or dinner. The food was good.

_000_000_000

Dean and Brady got into the car.

"You live on campus or off?" Dean asked, turning on the engine.

"On," Brady replied, closing the door. "But it is at the end. People hardly walk down that far."

"Okay."

Dean pulled out of the parking lot going back to the school.

Neither one saw the tall, lanky guy walking towards the diner.

_000_000_000

The closer Sam got to the diner, the more excited he was feeling. The chance to sit down and warm up. He had enough change to get himself some coffee.

The roar of an engine brought an old feeling back up. For all his life, he knew that sound. The first thing that popped in his head was Dean. A renewed energy filled Sam as he ran towards the sound.

Sam saw the familiar sight of the taillights of the Impala.

"Dean."

**TBC**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone that has reviewed, favored, and followed my story.**

**Please leave a review letting me know what you think of it. **

**Many hugs and kisses to you!**

**Mandancie **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**This story is unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are my own.**

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I had to rework how this story was going to end. **

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 4**

Sam knew that sound. It had been a while since he heard it, but hearing the rumble of that V8 engine, he knew.

The energy that was draining from Sam's body came back full force. He needed to follow the car. The lanky boy wanted to stop at the diner and warm up a little, but the prospect of going "home" beat any restaurant, laundry mat, or shelter.

Sam walked on pure autopilot; nothing mattered. He didn't care about the traffic. Thankfully there weren't many cars out currently. Sam was on a mission, and he was going to see that mission to the end. It didn't even register to Sam that he was heading back towards the college.

The reason he wasn't at Stanford now was because of the scandal. He didn't do what he was accused of.

_000_000_000

_Sam walked out of the Library with a few other people. Brady was waiting for him at the Student Commons area, so they could catch a movie. _

"_Hey, Sam," a girl called out._

_Sam turned and saw Becca, a girl in his Criminal Law class, jogging towards him. _

"_Yeah," he answered._

_Becca stopped in front of Sam. "Do you think we could get together and study for the exam on Friday?"_

"_Sure," Sam said. "We'll meet in the Commons on Thursday after dinner. I have some things to take care of first."_

"_Sure," Becca nodded her agreement and walked off. _

_Sam met up with Brady and went on about their day. _

_Thursday came, and Sam was waiting at the Student Commons for Becca to show up. He sat at the table for an hour before he decided to leave. Walking towards the exit, Sam pulled out his phone._

"_Hey…no, she never showed up…I'm on my way back to the room… I—"_

_Sam heard a crashing noise in one of the closed rooms. _

"_Sam," Brady's voice sounded through the phone. "Sam, what's going on?"_

"_I don't know," Sam said. "I heard something." He hung up the phone before Brady could reply. _

_Several rooms were along the walkway to the entrance of the Student Commons. These were study rooms students would go to if they wanted quiet from the Commons' usual noise. Students would go to study at the Library, but there, food wasn't allowed. The rooms were mostly empty apart from a table and a few chairs. _

_Sam quietly walked the room, turning the knob. The room was a shamble. The table was turned on its side, the chairs were scattered around the room. Behind the table, Sam saw a pair of bare legs._

"_Hello," Sam called out. "Are you okay?"_

_When Sam didn't get a response, he crept slowly towards the table. When he saw who it was, Sam dropped his things and rushed to her side. Becca was unconscious and half-naked. Sam shrugged out of his jacket, covering her up._

_Becca had bruises on her face, blood streaming down her cheek from the cut from her lip. Her cheek and eye were beginning to swell, a dark shade of purple. There were bruises on her neck and wrists. The clothes that were still on her were ripped._

_Sam put his fingers to her neck to check her pulse. _

_She's alive. _

_Sam fished his phone out of his pocket. He dialed 911._

"_Hello, yeah," Sam said. "there's been…"_

_Sam fell across the girl's body. _

"_Hello. Hello," the dispatcher's voice was heard through the phone. "Are you still there?"_

__000_000_000_

_The first thing Sam noticed was that his head hurt, badly. He slowly opened his eyes and was quickly assaulted by a blinding light. Shielding his face with his hand, Sam opened his eyes again. He looked around. He was on a couch, and it wasn't his dorm room. Sam didn't know where he was. _

_The click of the door brought Sam to attention. A man and woman walked into the room._

"_I'm Detective James," the man said. "This is Detective Marshall," pointing to the woman._

_Sam sat up on the couch._

"_Where am I?" Sam asked._

"_Why don't you tell us what happened this evening?" Detective James asked. _

"_What's going on?" Sam asked._

"_Just tell us what happened this evening?" Detective James asked again._

_Sam looked at the two Detectives and described his evening. He talked about going to the Commons to meet up with his study partner but got stood up. On his way out of the building, he heard some rustling noises._

"_Who were you going to meet at the Student Commons?" James inquired. _

"_Becca Banner," Sam replied. "What's going on?"_

"_What happened after you heard the rustling noises?"_

_Sam tried to remember. Only bits and pieces would come to him; his headache wasn't helping. _

"_One of the study rooms," Sam started. _

"_What about the study room?" Detective Marshall spoke for the first time._

_Sam looked up at the female cop. "Noise."_

"_What kind of noise?"_

"_Rustling."_

"_Rustling noise? So, what did you do after hearing these noises?"_

"_I checked it out," Sam said._

"_So, do you go around checking out random noises?" Marshall smirked. Sam just looked at her. "So, you go to follow this random noise. What happened next?"_

"_When I went in the room," Sam brow knitted together as he tried to remember. "It was a wreck."_

"_Probably from the way you left it," Marshall accused._

"_What?!" Sam exclaimed. "You think I hurt her?"_

"_Did you?" James asked._

"_No," Sam said, standing up._

"_Sit down," Marshall yelled. _

_Sam, still standing, said, "I did not hurt her. I found Becca like that. I called 911."_

"_Really," Marshall challenged. She pulled out a photo from the file in her hand, showing it to Sam._

_It was a screenshot from a surveillance video. _

"_It looks like here," Marshall said, snidely, "you were taking photos of your work. It wasn't bad enough that you raped her, but you had to memorialize it as well." Marshall was in Sam's face. _

_The picture showed Sam with his phone out, sitting next to the body._

"_I didn't rape her," Sam yelled. _

_Sam knew he had to get out of this room. He needed to run. He didn't do it; he couldn't do it. Hurting another human was forbidden. His dad and Dean drilled into Sam (though it didn't take that much convincing) hunt monsters save humans. _

_The thought of it getting out that he raped a girl was devastating to Sam. His first thought was of Dean. What would he say? Would he believe that he was capable of doing something like that? _

_The fear built up in Sam. His ears were ringing. He didn't realize that the two detectives were talking to him. The only thing in his mind was to run. And run, he did. _

_Detective Marshall gripped Sam's arm. Not realizing what he was doing, Sam pushed her. She was not prepared for the attack; she flew against the wall. Detective James tried to hold Sam and subdue him. That didn't work._

_Sam rushed out of the building, realizing that he was still in the Student Commons. Sam ran to his dorm room. He didn't see Brady anywhere, but he was only focused on packing his essentials. Once his duffel bag was full, Sam ran._

_000_000_000

Sam was tired, scared. Ever since he heard the Impala's engine, he just wanted to go home. It didn't matter where it was parked. In front of the Student Commons, his dorm, or the police station, he wanted home.

When the youngest Winchester thought he wasn't going to take another step, that he was going to collapse to the ground where he stood, there it was. Home. Tears sprang to Sam's eyes as he looked at the car. Dragging his sore feet, Sam fell against the side of Baby. Just feeling the cold metal and glass of the car, all the familiar memories came flooding back. Sam lowered his head onto the car and couldn't stop the flow of tears.

He was home.

Sam opened the back door and crawled onto the backseat. The smell of the leather flooded Sam's nose. The soft give of the leather seat brought back more memories. Sam closed the door and laid his duffel in the footwell.

Their dad would leave a thick blanket behind the driver's side seat when they were growing up. Just in case they couldn't find a hotel during the winter. The blanket would keep Sam and Dean warm during the night. When Dean got the car, he never took it out.

Sam shrugged out of his jacket. Blindly, he reached for the blanket. Folding his coat to make a pillow, Sam laid down, covering himself up. He fell asleep instantly, surrounded by memories and the safety of home.

**TBC**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who favored, followed and reviewed my story. **

**Please leave a review letting me know what you thought about this chapter. **

**Many hugs and kisses to you all!**

**Mandancie**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**This story is unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are mine.**

**A/N: Here is the chapter I think most of you wanted to get to. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Chapter 5**

Dean walked out of the dormitory heading towards Baby. He didn't know why he needed to get back to the car. It was just an urge.

Looking at the car, it was still where he parked it. There were no dings in it. Dean walked to the trunk; the lock wasn't tampered with. Dean couldn't think why he needed to come to the car as he lightly slid his hand over the trunk. Then he saw it. There was a reflection that caught his eye. Pulling his gun from its hiding spot, Dean slowly walked towards the back door. When he saw the body lying on the back seat, he was seconds away from snatching the door open and scaring the crap out of the person who dared to climb in his car. Dean had his hand on the door handle when something caught his eye that had him frozen where he stood.

Sammy.

Dean has taken care of his baby brother since he was four. He knew how his brother slept. It didn't matter if Sammy was three, twelve, or nineteen. Sammy slept the same way.

Dean almost dropped his gun. There was such a relief that he felt his knees buckle. For an entire month, Dean had been so worried about his brother. He didn't know if everything was all right. He wanted to yell at his brother, tie him up, and pack him in the back seat, so he would always know where his Sammy was. But that was an argument for later. Right now, he needed to check on him.

Dean went to the other side to where his head was the closest to the door. Not wanting to scare Sammy, Dean slowly opened the door. Sam must have been exhausted as he didn't wake from the creak of the door opening.

Dean sat down on the floor and leaned over, brushing Sam's bangs from his face. His brother was safe. Sammy was safe.

_000_000_000

_Sam was lying on a cot. He tried to stay awake, but he was dog-tired. It was vital for him to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't figure out why. Finally, sleep won out. _

_It was peaceful for a moment, but just a moment. A hand clamped down over Sam's mouth, muffling any kind of noise as well as making it hard to breathe. When he opened his eyes, James was leaning over him. _

_Sam tried to reach back for his knife and realize that not only was his knife, not where it was supposed to be, but he just realized that his duffel was not there either. _

"_Well, it seems like my eye candy is defenseless. It's okay. Just makes it easier for me." _

_James' other hand slid down his chest, over his stomach. Sam's muffled screams were getting louder but still didn't alert anyone of Sam's dilemma. Sam tried to buck the man off him, but he felt trapped. He couldn't move, struggling against invisible restraints. When Sam felt James' hand on his crotch, he couldn't stop the tears streaming down to his hair. _

"_Shh," James mockingly soothed. "You'll feel good. I promise."_

_Sam felt a brush of cold air. It sent a shiver down his spine. It made him try to back away from James. James's hand didn't move; it just stayed where it was. Sam didn't like it; he wanted him to go away. Sam wanted Dean. Dean would always make things better. _

_Thinking about Dean brought a whole new set of anxiety. He wanted his brother. He had convinced himself that he would be fine alone. These past few weeks only showed Sam that he couldn't. He needed his brother. Oh, what he would do if Dean was here. _

_Dean. Dean. Please help me, Sam thought. He wanted to scream it from the top of his lungs. _

_The smell hit him first. Tears burn his throat because he knew that smell. It made him wish for his brother all the more. Sam missed the security he would get being with his brother. _

_000_000_000

"Sammy, wake up," Dean said softly as he carefully shook his little brother's shoulder. "Sammy."

Sam began to jerk in his sleep, trying to pull away. He was mumbling something. It was so soft that Dean had to lean down with his ear against Sam's mouth so he could hear him. After a second, Dean's heart broke.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean said with more vigor. "I'm right here."

Dean combed his fingers in Sam's sweaty hair. Sam gasped and tried to sit up, but he felt resistance and started kicking his feet against the door as if trying to get away.

Dean being used to waking Sam from a nightmare, be it the car or a hotel. He grabbed his brother's wrists, pulling him closer to his body. Wrapping his arms around Sam, Dean gave his baby brother a sense of security. Just like when they were little, Dean would try and wake Sam from whatever was troubling him.

_000_000_000

_James was on top of Sam, pinning his arms above his head. He leaned down and got closer to Sam's ear. "This is going to be fun."_

_At the top of his lungs, Sam screamed, "DEAN!"_

"Come on, Sammy. I'm right here."

_He could be in a crowded, noisy room, and he would be able to tell that voice. Dean._

"Open your eyes, Sammy."

_000_000_000

Sam woke up, gasping for air. Sam always had a problem with holding his breath when having a nightmare. When he opened his eyes, Sam saw someone he didn't think he would ever see again.

Dean was looking down over him. Flexing his hands, Sam could feel that Dean had his wrists.

"There you are, baby brother," Dean smiled.

"D'n," Sam cried.

Sam tried to crawl in Dean's arms, but the older Winchester brother got up so he could get into the car. Sam started whining. It looked like Dean was leaving him.

"D'n," Sam whined.

"Calm down, Sammy," Dean said, getting in the back of the car. "I'm not going anywhere."

Once Dean got in, Sam slid closer to his brother and fell into a firm embrace. Sam never felt as happy and safe while in college as he did at this moment.

Everything Sam went through. All the worrying Dean went through. None of that mattered now. They were in each other's arms.

Sam's face was buried in the crook of Dean's neck. Sam gripping Dean's jacket. Dean had one arm wrapped around Sam's shoulders, while the other was cradling his head. His finger's slightly rubbing Sam's scalp.

Everything happening outside, the chill of the air, nothing matter. The only thing vital to the Winchester brothers were each other.

Dean wanted to talk to Sam. There were so many questions he needed answered. The main one was why he didn't have his phone on him. But for right now, Dean was contented to just sit here and hold his baby brother.

"I got you, baby brother," Dean soothed. "I'm here. Whatever it is, big brother will take care of it."

Dean's soothing mantra continued until Sam's shoulders stopped shaking.

Dean, keeping his one hand on Sam's head, wanted to reach out to close the opened back door. Dean didn't get his arm off Sam before the college boy started to struggle again. Dean instantly went back to soothing him.

"I'm not going anywhere," Dean soothed. "I just want to close the door. I'm freezing my ass off."

Sam couldn't help but snort a laugh at that. Dean took that as a good sign and reached out and closed the back door. Memories flooded Sam's mind of growing up and the two of them sitting in the Impala's back seat.

_Home. His real home_, Sam thought.

Now that Sam wasn't trying to bury himself into Dean, Dean figured it would be the perfect time to ask questions.

"What the hell happen, Sammy?" Dean asked.

Though Dean's voice wasn't harsh, Sam could hear the disappointment in his voice. Sam sighed and sat back against the back of the seat. In doing that, Dean got a good look at Sam. Dean saw something that caught his attention.

"What happened?" Dean demanded, pulling on Sam's shirt, seeing the blood on it.

This time Dean's voice was harsh. Sam felt his brother's hands on him. Sam looked down and saw that he still had the blood on him from when James tried to attack him.

Dean was in full overprotective big brother mode. He first started checking for injuries. As he moved his hand across Sam's torso, Sam explained to Dean it was not his blood. Dead didn't buy that. Just because it might not be his blood doesn't mean his baby brother wasn't hurt.

Before Sam could say anything, Dean got out of the back seat, and just as quickly got in the front seat and turned on the engine. Sam didn't say a word before the Impala pulled out of the parking lot and was headed, what Sam hoped, out of town.

There was no such luck on that score. Dean drove them to a hotel. Sam speculated that this was where Dean was staying. Dean parked the car and got out to help his brother. Sam reached for his duffel and slid closer to the door.

Dean took the duffel out of his brother's hand and hoisted it over his shoulder while helping Sam out of the car. With his hand still on Sam's elbow, the two brothers walked to the hotel room. Once in the room, a whole new sense of calm swam over Sam. Seeing the two beds brought tears to his eyes. Dean closed the door.

"D'n," Sam croaked over the lump in his throat.

Dean turned Sam around. "Come here." Dean pulled his brother into his arm, so he could give his brother a proper hug. Sam sighed and sagged against Dean.

"I'm here," Dean soothed.

_000_000_000

Sam was in the shower. Dean looked through the duffel, finding clothes, snacks, and a few energy drinks. The door to the bathroom opened, and a billow of steam followed Sam out of the bathroom. Dean turned and got a good look at his brother. He rushed to Sam's side when he saw his neck.

"What the hell happened?" Dean growled. "You said that blood wasn't yours."

Dean was in front of Sam, tilting the young Winchester's head to the side so he could get a good look at the cut on Sam's neck.

"Go sit down," Dean ordered. "I'll be right back."

Sam sat down. Even though Sam knew Dean was upset, this was the most comfortable Sam has felt in a long time. Hearing his brother growl at him didn't worry him. Sam knew that his brother was angry at the situation, not him.

Dean came back in, slamming the door behind him. He walked over to the table and put the first aid kit down.

"Alright, talk," Dean ordered.

Dean pulled out some gauze and soaked it with peroxide.

"It doesn't matter," Sam sighed, tilting his head to the side.

"I beg to differ." Dean's voice was no longer angry. He was wiping a wound on his baby brother's neck. It was full of rage. "Someone tried to slit your throat! What happened?"

"Please, Dean," Sam sighed. "Just leave it. I'm fine."

"You were radio silent for a month," Dean said, slamming the bottle on the table, causing some of the liquid to spill. "I had no idea what happened to you. When I do find you, you're covered in blood, and it looks like someone tried to slit your throat."

"Dean…"

"Dammit, Sammy," Dean screamed, cutting off any excuse his brother was going to give. "Either you tell me what happened, or I'll go and find out. And you know I will."

Sam thought about what happened to him. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to tell Dean. If he told Dean, it would make it real. He just wanted it to be a bad nightmare. Looking down at his hands, Sam could still see that man's blood. He can still feel that man's hands on him. Tears burned the back of his eyes. He didn't want to think about it.

Sam looked up at Dean. The anger Dean felt quickly left him when he saw the tears in his brother's eyes. Dean pulled a chair closer to his brother and sat down. Leaning closer, Dean cupped Sam's face, and when the first tear fell, Dean wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

"Sammy, please," Dean pleaded softly. "What happened?"

Sam's resolve melted away. Sam closed his eyes and leaned into the hand that cupped his face. His shoulders shook. Dean pulled his brother into his arms. Dean knew whatever it was, it was something terrible by the way Sam was gripping his clothes.

"I'm right here, Sammy," Dean soothed. "Whatever it is, I'm right here."

"I…I tried to stay safe," Sam whispered, laying his forehead against Dean's shoulder.

Dean didn't want to interrupt his brother. Whatever what troubling Sam, he needed to get it off his chest. Dean gently squeezed Sam's neck before cupping the back of his head.

"I didn't trust anyone," Sam sighed. He was calming down, but he didn't want to leave the comfort of his brother's arms. "I stayed to myself. I was at the bus stop resting when he showed up. I left, but he followed me."

"Followed you where?" Dean asked, tightening his grip.

Sam let go of the grip he had on Dean's clothes. He sat up, pushing against Dean's shoulders so he could sit properly. Looking at his brother, Sam told his tale of what happened.

"You've been living on the street?" Dean incredulously asked. Sam nodded. "Why didn't you call me? Don't you know I would drop everything for you?"

Sam lowered his head. Deep down, he knew that, but there was a small voice in his head saying that Dean didn't care.

"I thought you were angry with me for leaving for school," Sam rationalized. "We didn't part on the best of terms."

"You and dad didn't part on the best of terms," Dean corrected. "I, on the other hand, dropped you off at the bus station and called you every week to see how you were doing."

Sam lowered his head again.

"I didn't want to disappoint you," Sam mumbled.

"Disappoint me? You would never disappoint me if there was trouble." Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What disappointed me was that you didn't call me when this whole mess started."

Sam lowered his head and sighed.

Standing back up, "Now, lift your head so I can finish dressing this. And then you're going to bed."

Sam did as he was told, and Dean inspected the wound, making sure that it didn't need stitches. The cut was deep, but it wasn't as bad as he thought. A few Band-Aid stitches and a gauze taped to the wound to keep it clean should do it.

After Dean finished dressing the wound, Sam got up and headed towards the bed. His usual bed, the one furthest from the door. Dean packed the first aid supplies back into the box, silently.

Before Sam could lay down, he knew he would have to confess about what happened and how he got the wound.

"Dean," Sam called out softly.

Dean stopped what he was doing and looked at his brother.

"I know you want to know who did this," Sam said, pointing to the gauze. "But I handled it."

"Handled it how?" Dean put down what he had in his hand and turned to face Sam, leaning on the table with his arms folded across his chest.

Sam sighed. Then he regaled Dean with everything that happened this morning to when he left the shelter.

"SONOFABITCH!" Dean yelled, walking over to the bed and grabbing his keys.

"Dean!"

Sam rushed over to his brother before he stomped out the door. It took all of Sam's strength to keep Dean inside the hotel room. Sam was lucky he was able to lean against the door preventing Dean from leaving.

"Please. I cut the dude's arm," Sam said, breathing hard from the struggle between him and Dean. "That's why I had blood on me. I didn't lie to you; it wasn't my blood. It was his. Once he moved the knife from my neck, I was able to defend myself."

"That man deserves to die," Dean growled. "He put his hands on you."

"Dean, please," Sam begged.

Dean closed his eyes and tried to reign in his temper. He threw the keys on the bed and walked towards Sam.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

"Alright," Dean sighed. "Go to bed."

Sam looked at him. Dean saw the unasked question.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here. In the morning, we'll talk about this reason you ran from school in the first place."

Sam followed Dean toward the bed. Dean lifted the duvet.

Smirking, Sam said, "I don't need to be tucked in," sitting down on the bed.

"You ghosted on me for a month. I had no idea what happened. I'm entitled to treat you like a child and make sure to my satisfaction that you are sleeping in a semi-comfortable bed, nice and warm."

Sam smiled as he allowed Dean to take care of him. If Sam was honest with himself, he was actually enjoying Dean taking care of him. Sam missed this so much. He didn't know how much until Dean was here. Sam knew tonight will probably be the best sleep he's had since he started school. It didn't take long for Sam to fall asleep when Dean walked away.

Dean watched his baby brother for a second before he fished in his pocket for his phone. Dialing a number. He put the phone to his ear.

"Hey," Dean said. "Where are you?... I need your help. … How fast can you get to Palo Alto?... Great. … I need you to find someone. … Thanks." Dean hung up the phone.

**TBC**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favored, and followed my story.**

**Please leave a review letting me know what you think about the chapter. **

**Many hugs and kisses to you all!**

**Mandancie**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural**

**This story is unbeta'ed. All mistakes are my own. **

**A/N: Enjoy!**

**Chapter 6**

Sam gasped, sitting up in the bed. He looked around, trying to take in his surroundings. It was dark. It took Sam a moment for his eyes to adjust. Dull red light illuminated the room. Finding its source, Sam saw that it was a digital clock. It was a little after three in the morning.

Taking a deep breath, Sam was about to lay back down.

"You, okay?" Dean's sleepy voice broke through the silence.

"Dean," Sam's voice yelped.

Dean's brow furrowed when he heard the tense tone in his brother's voice. Sitting up, totally awake.

"Sammy," Dean turned on the lamp on the nightstand between their beds. "What's wrong?"

Seeing the room, Sam remembered he was with Dean and not in the shelter. His relief was palpable. Tears burned his throat that he was with his brother.

"Uh, n..nothing," Sam sighed. "Bad dream."

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, lying back down.

Dean watched his brother lay down, and he could see the glaze in Sam's eyes. Dean got up and went to Sam's bed.

"Slide over," Dean ordered, tapping Sam on his shoulder.

"What?"

Dean waved his hand. Sam slid over to make room for Dean. Dean sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What is it?" Dean asked softly.

"It's nothing," Sam said, looking up at Dean. "It's fine now."

"Well, it's still late," Dean said. "It has been a long day, and it'll be a long day tomorrow. There is someone I need to find."

Sam got up on his elbow. "Dean," Sam sighed, running his hand in his hair. "I said I handled it."

"And I'm going to finish it," Dean said resolutely. "You protected yourself, yes. But he put his hands on you."

"Dean," Sam pleaded. But the look on Dean's face let Sam know there was no changing his mind.

"Now," Dean said, changing the subject. "Will you be able to get back to sleep, or do you need me to get in here with you and tell you a bedtime story?" Dean smirked by the end of that statement.

Leave it to Dean to lighten the mood. Sam huffed a laugh while lightly pushing Dean's shoulder.

"Jerk," Sam mumbled, laying down.

Though deep down, the thought of feeling his brother next to him after the day he had wasn't a bad idea. But he was nineteen years old. He wasn't a little kid who ran to his big brother every time he had a bad dream. Though after his encounter with James, all he wanted was Dean.

Sammy was like an open book when he was scared. Dean could see it. On the outside, Sam didn't want to cling to him. But on the inside, Sammy was craving it. Dean decided to make a choice for him. He meant what he said they had a lot to do the next day, but they needed to sleep.

Dean stood up and walked over to the chair where his leather coat was hanging on the back. Walking back to the bed, Dean laid the coat over Sam's shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, surprised.

He grabbed the pillow from the other bed and the top blanket, propping his pillow against the headboard.

"Getting some sleep," Dean said nonchalantly. "Scoot."

Dean got on the bed next to Sam.

Sam just watched as his brother moved around. He was too in awe to say anything. The weight of Dean's leather coat on his shoulders gave him a little comfort he hadn't felt since before he left for Stanford.

Dean laid down and closed his eyes. His arms crossed over his chest, and his legs crossed at the ankles.

Warm, comforting memories flooded Sam's mind, easing him to a peaceful slumber.

Dean smirked a little when he heard Sam's breathing even out.

"Sleep, little brother," Dean said quietly. "Big brother will take care of everything."

Dean fell asleep.

_000_000_000

Sam walked out of the bathroom when Dean came through the door.

"Breakfast," Dean said, raising the take-out bag from the local fast food outlet. "Come. Sit. We need to talk."

Sam finished drying his hair with the hotel-given towel and tossed it on the bed.

"You know I'm not a dog," Sam smirked, sitting down at the table.

"Yeah, well," Dean said, tossing a breakfast sandwich at Sam. Once he retrieved his sandwich, Dean sat down opposite Sam.

"Now," Dean said once they finished their breakfast. "Tell me what's going on. I hear a lot of things that don't make sense."

"I didn't do it," Sam adamantly said.

"I never said you did," Dean said, holding up his hand. "And I know you would never. But it is being said, and you being investigated for rape and kidnapping. So, why don't you tell me what happened."

Sam sighed and went into the story. "Things were fine. Becca, the girl who was raped, asked me to help her with studying. We had the same class and wanted to be ready for an exam we were having."

"Okay. Geeky," Dean teased. "What else?"

Sam gave Dean his patented bitchface look and then continued the story.

"We were supposed to meet that evening at the Student Commons. I waited and waited. She never showed."

"How long did you sit there?" Dean asked.

"An hour. Hour and a half," Sam said, shrugging his shoulders. "I figured she wasn't coming, and I was getting tired, so I was going to leave. That's when it happened."

Dean sat across from Sam, hearing his brother retell the story.

"What?" Dean asked, taking a bit of his sandwich.

"While I was walking out of the building, I heard some commotion. I went to check it out. The room was a mess. I turned on the lights, that's when I saw Becca. She was lying on the floor, clothes ripped. I took off my jacket and covered her. I was about to call 911, but the next thing I knew, I was on a couch in another room. There were two detectives in the room. They accused me of raping her and wanting to take a picture of it."

"Where was your phone?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I didn't have it when I woke up," Sam shrugged.

"What made you run?" Dean asked, sitting back in his chair.

Sam looked at Dean and then lowered his head. With everything he tried to do, Dean still found out about it.

"Sammy," Dean said.

Sam sighed, "I didn't want you to think that…"

"Do you think so little of me that you would think I would believe some lies about you?" Dean was incredulous. "I raised you. Why would you—is that why you didn't call me?"

Sam didn't say anything; he lowered his head.

"Sam?"

"I didn't want you disappointed in me," Sam said.

Dean shook his head. "I told you last night, the only reason I'm disappointed is that you didn't call me."

Sam felt awful. He just wanted to be normal.

"Now," Dean said. "You are going to stay here."

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to find this Becca," Dean said. "The cops are looking for you. And plus, I want to know where you are."

Dean got up and grabbed his clothes, heading to the bathroom.

"What am I supposed to do while you're gone?" Sam called out.

"Rest," Dean said. His voice coming through the door.

Dean walked out of the bathroom wearing his slacks and a white shirt. He was tying his tie.

"I need to do something," Sam complained.

"Yes," Dean agreed, pulling his sweater vest over his head. "You need to rest. You still look like you haven't slept in a week."

"But Dean…," Sam started.

"No," Dean said. "You have too many people looking for you. I want you to stay put. I'll be back in a few hours. I'll let you know what I learned."

Dean picked up the keys from the table. He looked at his brother, who was still sitting at the table. Dean went to Sam and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Sammy," Dean said. "It will be alright. Get some sleep. We'll get through this."

Sam nodded.

Dean left, closing the door behind him.

Sam looked around the moderate size room. Once again, he was alone, but he didn't feel lonesome for the first time in a long time. Sam wanted to help and find out what really happened and why he was accused. But the idea of getting some rest won out. Dean was right; he was still tired.

Sam saw that Dean left his jacket on the back of the chair. Grabbing it, Sam went to his bed and laid down. He was asleep within five minutes.

_000_000_000

Dean was driving back to the school when his cell rang. He reached for it and pressed the button to answer.

"Yeah."

"_I'm here."_

"Great. I'm staying at the Palo Alto Motel on the main street," Dean said. "Get a room. Text me your room number when you get settled."

Dean closed the phone, turning the car into a parking space of Stanford's Administrative building.

Dean walked up to the front desk.

"How can I help you?" The woman behind the counter said absentmindedly as she arranged her desk area to help the next person. When she looked up, she recognized him. "Oh, Agent, it's you."

"Good Morning," Dean said.

"Is there something else you need help with?" the woman inquired.

"I hope you can help me," Dean said softly. He wanted to give the impression that what he needed was in the delicate nature and didn't want it to get around.

The woman leaned in more so that they could talk softer.

"I'm close in catching this Winchester boy," Dean said. "But I still have a few questions for the girl; her name was Becca."

"Yes," the woman said. "Becca Banner, sweet girl. What an awful thing."

"Yes," Dean agreed. "I would like to talk to her, but there wasn't contact information from the police report."

The woman started tapping some keys on her keyboard. Seconds later, the information she was searching for came up. She pulled a small scrap of paper, writing the info down.

"Here," the woman said, sliding the piece of paper to Dean. "I hope you can get whoever did this. It's a shame what happened."

"Yes, ma'am, it is," Dean agreed. "Thanks."

Dean walked out of the school. He got another call.

"Yeah."

"It's Brady. You disappeared. I thought you were coming back."

"Something came up," Dean said. "I'll stop by later."

Dean hung up the phone before Brady could say anything. There were some more people Dean needed to talk to before tracking down Ms. Becca Banner.

Dean punched a few numbers in his phone then brought the phone to his ear. After a moment, he said, "I need the number to the local police station." Waiting for a moment, he said, "Can you connect me? Thanks."

Dean walked to the Impala while he waited for someone to pick up the phone.

"Hello," Dean said, getting into the car. "I'm Agent Barnes. I was told I could find Detectives Marshall and James at this precinct."

"Yes, sir," the dispatcher said. "Would you like me to transfer you to them?"

"No, thanks," Dean said. "Let them know that I would like to see them. I'm on my way."

"Yes, sir," the dispatcher said, hanging up the phone.

Dean got into the car and drove off. It didn't take long for him to pull into the police station's parking lot. Before he exited the vehicle, he got a text on his phone.

_I'm at the hotel. Room 24. Going to get something to eat; let me know when you're ready._

Dean nodded and texted his reply, and got out of the car. He walked into the building towards the main desk.

"How can I help you?"

Dean looked at the name badge on the officer's chest.

"Good day, Officer Jones," Dean said. "I'm Agent Barnes," showing the cop his fake ID, "I would like to speak to two detectives. Marshall and James."

"Yes," Officer Jones said, "They are expecting you."

Officer Jones escorted Dean to the detectives' office, knocked, and opened the door.

"Agent Barnes," the man stood up, holding out his hand.

"Dean, please," Dean shook the man's hand.

"I'm Steven." Pointing to the woman, "this is Tricia."

"Thanks for seeing me," Dean said.

"No problem," Steven said, sitting back down. "Sit," holding out his hand towards the chair next to his desk. "How can we help you?"

"Well, I was hoping for some information," Dean said. "I caught wind of a case that the MO sounded close to one of mine I'm working."

"What case is that?" Steven asked, leaning back in his chair.

"The rape at Stanford college," Dean said.

"Yeah," Steven said, sitting straighter in his chair, folding his hands on his desk. "That case worries me."

"How so?" Dean inquired.

"Well, the story doesn't add up," Tricia said, speaking for the first time.

"What's is it?" Dean asked, looking over at Tricia.

"We have a suspect," Tricia said. We got him dead to rights, but—"

"What?" Dean pressed.

"The girl," Steven said, "Becca, she refuses to say who her attacker was. We believe she's covering for him."

"So, you don't have a case?" Dean asked though it came out as a statement.

"This guy still did it," Tricia said adamantly.

"It's not proven," Steven said to Tricia. "We only have a picture. And that doesn't really show anything."

"He's over her body with his phone," Tricia argued.

Before the conversation became a full-fledged argument, Dean asked, "Can I see the picture?"

Tricia looked at Dean as if she didn't know he was still in their office. She looked through the files on her desk and pulled out a plastic-covered photo.

Dean could see his baby brother kneeling by the girl. Knowing Sam's clothes from anywhere, since it was usually his older clothes. He knew Sam packed most of his old clothes when he left for school. Dean didn't say anything because he knew the reason why.

Pulling himself out of his musing, Dean focused back on the photo.

"So, what in this photo showed that this guy's the suspect?" Dean asked.

Tricia snatched the photo from Dean's fingers and jabbed her finger at Sam's image.

"He's over the body." Tricia's voice was stern. "He's taking a picture on his phone."

Dean knew his brother. One, he would never do something so despicable as rape a girl, but he wouldn't try and keep a record of it.

"Do you have the phone?" Dean asked.

Tricia's anger seemed to deflate as she sighed, sitting down in her chair.

"There was no phone around when we got there," Steven said.

"Did you find him? Talk to him?"

"Yeah," Tricia sighed. "But he lied."

Dean was trying to hold his tongue with this lady. He had a part to play, and he didn't need to blow his cover checking this woman in her place about his little brother.

"Tricia, that's enough," Steven bit out. "Ms. Banner said it wasn't him."

"She's mistaken," Tricia rebutted. "She was just in a traumatic situation. She just needs to let the truth come through when she's calmer."

"Becca Banner said that Sam Winchester didn't rape her," Steven said. "Let's move on. The real rapist is still out there. And I would like to catch him before he rapes someone else."

"Do you have any other suspects?" Dean asked Steven.

"Not yet," Steven replied. "The reason for this disagreement is because Ms. Banner said she doesn't know who it was, but she's sure it wasn't Sam Winchester."

"Do you mind if I talk to her?" Dean asked. "I don't want you to think I'm stepping on any toes."

Tricia looked like she was going to reject the agent's help, but Steven spoke first.

"Yeah," Steven said, eyeing Tricia in a silent conversation. "Maybe she does remember something talking to someone else."

"Great," Dean said, standing up, holding out his hand. "Thanks for your time."

Steven stood and shook Dean's hand.

"No problem," Steven said. "I hope we can catch this guy."

"So, do I," Dean said, walking out of the office.

_000_000_000

Dean walked to the Impala feeling a little lighter. Knowing that Sammy wasn't an actual suspect was great. Looking at his watch, he saw that he was gone for about two and a half hours. Sammy needed rest, but he didn't want him to be alone for so long.

Dean knew he was being overprotective, but finally, having his brother safe where he knew exactly where he was, was calming. After driving out of the parking lot, Dean dialed his phone.

"Are you back in your room? … Great…I'm going to check on Sammy and change. We're in room 30… Give me ten minutes and come over."

Dean closed his phone and set it on the seat next to him. It didn't take him long to get back to the hotel room. When he walked into the room, he saw that Sammy was still asleep. Pulling the sweater off over his head, he sat down on the end of Sam's bed, successfully waking Sam up.

"D'n,"

"Sleepyhead," Dean smirked.

"What time is it?" Sam's words slurred.

"Don't worry about it," Dean said, standing up. "You obviously need to catch up on sleep."

Sam came up on his elbow. "I can't sleep the day away," squinting at the clock on the nightstand. "It's the afternoon."

"I've noticed," Dean said, walking back over to Sam. With his hand on Sam's chest, he pushed his brother back on the bed before Sam could think about moving.

"Dean," Sam half-heartedly protested.

"Sleep," Dean ordered softly. "I'm here."

Sam looked up at his brother. He wanted to argue more that he needed to get up, but his body relaxed on the mattress again, and any thought of getting up left his mind. The weight of Dean's hand on his chest didn't help matters any.

Dean smirked when Sam fell back asleep. He learned when he was seven, Sam would fight trying to sleep. All Dean had to do was put his hand on his chest. The constant pressure on Sammy's chest relaxed him. The downside was that it only worked if Sam was exhausted. And Dean knew this time, Sammy was exhausted.

Dean walked away from the bed, went to the bathroom, and changed, waiting for his friend to show up.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Dean pulled his gun that was at the back of his pants and walked to the door.

Without hearing anything, a voice said, "Dean, it's me. Let me in."

Dean smiled, put the gun back to its original place, and opened the door.

Lee Cobb was standing on the other side of the door.

"How you doing, you rascal?" Lee said, smiling.

"Thanks for coming, Lee," Dean stepped aside and allowed Lee entrance.

Lee saw Sam was asleep on the far bed.

"Brought us some beer," Lee said, holding up the six-pack in his hand.

"Great," Dean said, closing the door. "Sit."

The two friends were at the table. Lee facing the door while Dean kept his eyes on Sam.

"So, what's going on?" Lee asked after opening his second beer.

"I need your help in finding someone."

"Okay," Lee said, taking a swig. "Who?"

"I don't know. All I have is a name."

Lee saw that rugged look on Dean's face. The older Winchester wasn't looking at his friend but at his sleeping brother.

"Okay, tell me what I need to know," Lee said.

Dean told the story from what he knew about the altercation Sam had with this person. Dean knows how resourceful Lee was.

Lee could find a specific flea off a dog's back. Lee would be the right one for the job.

"So, let me get this straight," Lee said. Dean took his own swig, draining his beer. "Sam has been homeless for about a month."

Dean nodded.

"A couple of nights ago, some guy attempts to attack Sam."

"Not attempt," Dean clarified. "Molested. He put his hands on my Sammy."

Hearing 'my Sammy' from Dean wasn't an odd occurrence. Anyone that knew the Winchester boys knew if you didn't want Dean's wrath, you did not touch little Sammy Winchester.

"Is there anything you can tell me about James?" Lee asked.

"There is some shelter a few blocks down the way," Dean said, looking at Lee. "Sammy said that one of the volunteers helped him. Her name was Rebecka. I think if you find her, it could lead to finding the soon-to-be-lungless man."

Lee bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh at Dean's threat, shaking his head.

"Alright," Lee said, standing up. "Give me a day or two."

Dean stood and walked with Lee to the door.

"Call me when you get anything," Dean said.

"I will," Lee walked out of the room.

Dean closed the door and turned, looking at his baby brother sleeping peacefully on his bed.

"I'll take care of everything, little brother," Dean vowed.

**TBC**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who favored, followed, and reviewed my story. **

**Please leave a review letting me know what you think of this chapter. **

**Many hugs and kisses to you all!**

**Mandancie**


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